


Pokemon Ploys

by badgerpride89



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Pokemon Fusion, Crack Treated Seriously, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen, M/M, Pokemon AU, That's it that's the plot, only kinda, the pokemon are metaphors for their relationship, they have pokemon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-10-07 21:47:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20465315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badgerpride89/pseuds/badgerpride89
Summary: What it says on the tin: A place to dump my crack stories about the husbands living in a pokemon world.A series of one-shots/stories in the lives of Master Coordinator Crowley and Researcher-reluctantly-turned-Gym Leader Aziraphale.





	1. A Gift

The next time they meet is at the largest contest of the year. Crowley would say he wasn’t looking for Aziraphale, would say he was not not-so-subtly checking the crowds and registrants for his...well, he supposes Aziraphale is his best friend by now. But that would be lying.

Crowley’s murkrow squawks at him from his perch on his shoulder. Serperior hisses at him, trying to make the bird take the situation seriously. It’s a dark type, though, and if there’s one thing Crowley has been learning these last several months with this type, it’s that dark types reserve seriousness for life-threatening situations. The rest of the time, they do what they want when they want. Crowley secretly admires that give no fucks attitude, even if it causes him a headache in contest training.

Crowley scans the room once more before a small, bright white little creature comes flying at him. He backs up a step, startled, as the pokemon, which he now recognizes as a togetic, chirps and spins midair. It does a large loop over his head and murkrow takes off from his shoulder, wings smacking Crowley’s head as he gets airborne. The togetic pauses for a second then waves its arms and goes back to its maneuvers.

“Ah, Crowley, there you are,” Aziraphale calls as Crowley finally spots him. Gardevoir is following at a sedate pace, like an older sibling who now has to deal with idiot younger siblings and a new puppy making a mess of the place. Crowley knows that look; he’s seen it enough on his older siblings’ faces.

Togetic whisks back to Aziraphale, nuzzling its head against his cheek. Aziraphale smiles and pets it on the head for a job well done.

“It’s quite the madhouse in here,” Aziraphale says, “I’m dreadfully sorry I couldn’t find you earlier.”

Crowley shrugs, trying to play it cool and not let his relief show too much. “‘S alright, Angel. You’re here, that’s the important thing.”

Aziraphale beams at him then greets serperior and murkrow, who is hovering in the air uncertainly. Togetic flies back up to join him.

“Where in the world did you get your hands on a togetic?” Crowley asks.

“It was a togepi, dear boy, and it was just a simple trade. A young lady was looking for a honedge, I happened to have one, and things just worked out. Oh, which reminds me.”

Aziraphale reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a large, black stone. “For you,” he says lightly, though his voice is low, he’s slightly hunched over and not making eye contact when he says it.

Crowley’s eyes widen comically. “A D-dusk stone?” Those things are rare, damn rare.

“I certainly have no need for it any longer,” Aziraphale says as Crowley slowly puts his hand over the stone and takes it, brushing his fingertips against Aziraphale’s.

“I’ll pay you back for this,” Crowley manages as murkrow lands on his shoulder and peers down at the stone for a closer look. Crowley swats it away. “Oi, you haven’t earned this yet. You barely won the last contest we entered. Even our new krookodile did better than you this year. This is the championships and you’ve been acting like it’s your personal world tour.”

Murkrow huffs, pointing its beak into the air. Togetic trills as it hovers beside Aziraphale. Aziraphale’s eyes crinkle at the exchange, like he’s trying not to laugh too hard at Crowley. For their part, gardevoir and serperior have stepped away a bit, having their own conversation. They have a lot to catch up on. They all do. But Crowley’s performing in an hour and he can’t afford to get too emotional asking about what Aziraphale has been up these last several months or explaining himself.

Murkrow squawks again, gesturing at the stone and the stage door. “Yes, yes, fine. You win, _decisively_, and I’ll let you use it, okay? Deal?”

Murkrow nods then flies through the stage door quick as a whip. Crowley blinks.

“I do think you’ve just been had,” Aziraphale giggles.

Crowley rolls his eyes. “It’s the contest championships, Angel,” he says, like it’s all the explanation he needs to give.

It is. “A championship which you have won the last five years in a row,” Aziraphale points out. “I’d say you’ve been doing rather well, near misses included.”

“They’re my pokemon and my team and around here, we only reward perfection,” Crowley drawls, “Unlike someone I could mention.”

“Yes, dear boy, that is the difference between research and competition.”

“Oh, research is it? The fairy guild still on your tail?”

Aziraphale scowls. “You know they are.”

Indeed, Crowley does. Half of their video conferences of late have involved Aziraphale bitching out the fairy guild and its various members for hounding him. Yes, he specializes in fairy types. Yes, he is a well (soon to be world) renown researcher. No, he is not interested in joining a battle guild, thank you very much. The other half has been Crowley bitching and moaning about his contest preparations. He thinks it’s an even trade.

The announcements blare, reminding patrons and coordinators that it is fifteen minutes to show time. Crowley sighs and Aziraphale droops a little at them. They rally, though, put on a brave face.

“Well, showtime,” Crowley says as he recalls serperior.

Aziraphale nods. “I would say good luck but you have no need of it. I hope your opponents will put in a good fight for second.”

Crowley barks a laugh. “Don’t jinx me, Aziraphale,” he says then asks seriously, “Dinner afterwards?”

“My dear, when you win, I will treat you to the finest eight-course meal you’ve ever had in your life,” he promises.

Crowley smiles widely. “Catch ya on the other side. Ciao.”

The meal is really very good. Even better are the hours upon hours he and Aziraphale spend catching up, soaking in each other’s presence. Contest season is over and Crowley plans to spend every second in Aziraphale’s company.


	2. The Gym Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale shows off his battling prowess to Crowley.

Crowley enters the shop attached to the gym, its soft bell tinkling in the night. Honestly, one of these days, Crowley’s going to have to get on Aziraphale about not locking the door. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale greets warmly, Crowley’s name a puff of bright air on his tongue.

Crowley’s ears pink under the attention as umbreon bounds around him to greet sylveon in the next room. “Hey, Angel,” he says, trying to play it cool.

Aziraphale has none of it. He closes the distance and hugs Crowley about the shoulders, all soft curves and smelling of his favorite spiced tea and old books. Crowley breathes it in, his shoulders dropping as he finally feels like he’s come home.

“How are you, dear?” Aziraphale asks, his face mere inches from Crowley’s.

Crowley grins. “Exhausted,” he admits, “but glad I got in tonight. Missed you.”

“And I you.”

They look, well, stare at each other for far too long before Aziraphale clears his throat. “How long will I have the pleasure of your company?”

Crowley winces. “Three days. Next contest is up north, twelve hour train ride.”

Aziraphale pauses then says morosely, “I’m afraid you’ve caught me at a bad time. I have two challenges tomorrow and the day after.”

“Ah.” What else is there to say? “Can’t take the whole day, can it?”

Aziraphale chuckles, shaking his head, then pulls Crowley in closer, a hand splayed on the back of his neck. He gently places his forehead against Crowley's.

“Come watch me,” Aziraphale asks, his low voice ghosting over Crowley's cheek. 

Crowley blushes, hands scrambling for purchase somewhere besides Aziraphale's waist, which suddenly seems too intimate and intense. Aziraphale's arms are still looped around Crowley's neck, their weight steadying but fierce. Crowley finally settles his arms under Aziraphale's as Aziraphale chuffs in his ear.

“I do so rarely have the opportunity to show off for you,” he adds, thumb stroking the back of Crowley's neck. "And I have missed you terribly. I should like to spend as much time with you as possible, dear boy."

Crowley swallows the lump in his throat then clears it for good measure. Even so, his voice sounds ragged. “Yeah, yeah, okay, Angel.”

So of course their sylveon and umbreon ruin the moment when umbreon tackles and pins sylveon to the floor, bumping and unbalancing their trainers in the process. They laugh as they right themselves, then dissolve into a fit of giggles at umbreon's confused look and cocked head and sylveon's satisfied purr, his attention completely focused on the Pokemon above him.

* * *

Aziraphale's gym is as cozy as the man himself, a few stands and a low ceiling contributing to the closeness. The ground is compacted dirt, not hard foundation, with a few large stones sitting the battlefield's edge. It's certainly not designed for the attention that an eighth badge battle draws. Crowley shoves his way through the throngs and finds a seat for himself, honchkrow, and umbreon with serperior coiled around his neck and torso. The benches are far more comfortable than he expects but then again, it's unsurprising Aziraphale would value comfort in his workplace. A camera crew sets up across the arena as reporters begin their commentary. Peering over his glasses, Crowley spots Michael, Gabriel, and Uriel near the front row. No fucking wonder Aziraphale wanted him here; those pricks look ready to ream him and he hasn't even done anything yet.

Aziraphale enters the arena with his challenger, a young woman with long dark hair and round spectacles wearing a long dress which suggested an affinity for ghost or psychic types. Aziraphale whispers in her ear and she laughs, relaxing. They greet the referee, shake hands, and exchange pleasantries as they're micc'ed. 

"Ladies, gentlemen, and others, welcome to this gym battle. Challenger Anathema Device will face Leader Aziraphale for her final gym badge. This will be a three on three match, challenger recall only. No healing interference by the trainers is allowed. Challenger, are you ready?"

"Ready," the girl replies, pulling a great ball and throwing it. Immediately Crowley's heart clenches. The salazzle is large even for her kind, lithe and fast, breathing smog and fire already. It's a perfect fairy counter. Even a mawile would have trouble handling it. For a second, Crowley thinks Aziraphale will choose his gardevoir. He's fast too, and can hit the lizard super-effectively with psychic. If he's faster. Or can take a boosted super-effective venoshock or sludge bomb to the face. Nah, he decides as Aziraphale pulls his first pokeball from his coat pocket. Aziraphale will want insurance first. He has two other unknown opponents to fight, after all, and gardevoir is his ace in the hole, not a lead. Aziraphale glances at Crowley, a tiny smile on his face as he throws the pokeball.

When the light clears, a chorus of awws and coos pepper through the crowd. The dedenne squeaks, its wire-like whiskers twitching with excitement. Huh. Well that's a thing. Must be a new catch Crowley hasn't met yet. Michael stiffens and probably rolls their eyes, knowing them. Whispers break over the crowd; the TV MC are obviously confused by the choice. Crowley isn't, once he thinks about it for a minute.

Anathema, to her credit, is taking the little fairy mouse seriously. Good.

Aziraphale widens his stance a little, takes a deep breath and says, “Let us test how ready you are.”

The ref takes her cue, raises an arm, and calls, “Begin!”

Salazzle spits poison sludge in dedenne's direction but the mouse vanishes faster than the lizard can track, ducking behind one of the large stones. Salazzle slinks towards it as her trainer directs her to find a better angle. She circles ever closer as dedenne tries to keep the bulk of the rock between itself and its opponent.

"Easy does it," Aziraphale encourages his pokemon, "Easy, hold, now, Nuzzle."

Dedenne doubles back, surprising the lizard. It leaps up, wraps its tail around salazzle's leg, and fires a pointed jolt of electricity. Salazzle screeches, tries to shake it off its leg but the movement is sluggish and languid. 

"Sludge wave, salazzle," the girl orders and venom begins to dribble from the lizard’s skin. 

Too slow.

Crowley smirks as the dedenne leaps off unharmed and scurries back into a hiding place. It's far from over but that one maneuver has just guaranteed a win for Aziraphale's gardevoir, whenever he decides to unleash him. Now Crowley is curious as to just what else the mouse is capable of. Sure, slowing down the toxic lizard is important but Aziraphale has to have more up his sleeves for a non-recall choice. Umbreon purrs at his feet while serperior coos excitedly.

Salazzle shifts drunkenly, tries to shake off the paralysis. She growls and goes to all fours snarling. Another growl and sludge explodes out of her, eating into the ground and burning a deep hole into dedenne's rock. The mouse pops up on top of it to escape the brunt of the wave, chattering as it does so. Crowley thinks, uncharitably, that it sounds like Aziraphale at his most scolding.

"Super fang, dear," Aziraphale commands.

Dedenne blurs into action. Its paws skip lightly over the still drenched ground, salazzle helpless. Dedenne curls its tail up and brings it down in front of it as it leaps, increasing its momentum. With a mighty squeak, its glowing fangs close around salazzle's snout and lock its jaw shut.

The girl panics and withdraws her salazzle, leaving dedenne to land clumsily on the ground. It winces as it steps, staggers once as it shakes off some purple venom. The girl's probably kicking herself. The mouse is definitely poisoned and on the ropes, though it takes the lull in the proceedings to pull a berry from its cheek and scarf it down. But the challenger cannot send salazzle back out immediately, she has to send out a replacement first, recall it, and only then can she bring salazzle back.

She chooses another pokeball, grins, and releases it. Crowley's eyes widen. It's an aegislash. This girl is not messing around. The sword pokemon floats behind its shield, observing the proceedings. Dedenne takes an uncertain step back as Aziraphale thinks, lips pursing as he shifts gears.

"Nuzzle," he commands.

Crowley winces. What the devil does he think he's doing, all that will do is-

"King's Shield," Anathema orders smugly. 

That.

Aegislash raises its shield, a pulse of white light engulfing it. Dedenne runs headlong into it, cheeks sparking, and is thrown back on its tail. It sits there a moment, shaking its head and running its front paws over its ears.

"Shadow Sneak," the girl orders. Shit, shit, shit.

Aegislash shifts its shield behind it and blurs faster than the eye can track. Dedenne blinks and suddenly the sword is right there, its eyes glaring at dedenne as it vanishes again.

A loud crash echoes through the arena, kicking up dust and smoke.

"Charm," comes Aziraphale's voice on the other side. Crowley glances at the monitor, which has found a clear angle. Dedenne is low on the ground, aegislash's flat edge on top of it, holding it down. The mouse gives a weak cry then chitters loudly, a high pitched whine like nails on a chalkboard. Crowley winces, they all do. Aegislash jerks up off of it, wavering back and forth at the sound.

Dedenne slowly stands but it's clear the little guy has had it. It looks back at Aziraphale, who nods and recalls it. A large red X appears over Aziraphale's side of the display. He mutters his thanks to the pokeball then hands it off to one of his assistants who takes to the medical pod at the far end of the arena. The girl relaxes, having finally managed a clean win. She really shouldn't. Aegislash will need time to fully recover its power after dedenne's last move; it's wide open. Aziraphale has softened the ground significantly and Crowley knows better than anyone just how good his Angel is at taking advantage of weak ground.

This time, Aziraphale makes eye contact with Crowley, burning the tips of Crowley's ears with his determined smile, and pulls an apricorn out of his jacket. Crowley smiles. Serperior hisses, squeezing Crowley, and shifts to get a better look as gardevoir comes twirling out of the old- fashioned ball. He hovers just a hair above the poison drenched arena, his red eyes glowing menacingly. Crowley knows that all gardevoir is doing is establishing a mental and emotional link with Aziraphale. It sure looks intimidating, though, if Anathema's cautious wait means anything.

Gardevoir flicks an arm, power gathering in his hand.

"King's Shield," the girl calls to protect her pokemon.

She needn't have worried. As aegislash ducks behind its shield, the energy travels up gardevoir's arm, enveloping the pokemon in an ethereal light. He glows as everyone catches on. They'd made the mistake of assuming that because aegislash is functionally a gardevoir's worst nightmare, its shadow sneak not only negates gardevoir's superior speed but hits like a truck and that's without even getting into its stronger steel attacks, that Aziraphale would have to get rid of it as quickly as possible and strike first. But no. Crowley's love takes advantage of the assumption and strengthens gardevoir's attack at no cost. That incoming shadow ball is going to hit even harder.

Anathema knows it too because she calls, "Distract it, aegislash, Shadow Sneak."

Aegislash swings itself at gardevoir, whose glowing eyes snap open. Aegislash makes contact with a sickening schwing but gardevoir holds his ground, gathers dark energy in his hand, and slams it into aegislash. When the smoke clears, both the sword and shield clatter to the ground, unconscious, gardevoir standing regally over his fallen opponent. The ref calls it for Aziraphale and Anathema sends her pokemon to the medical pod as the crowd roars its approval. Crowley's eyes are fixed on Aziraphale. Gardevoir may be acting like nothing happened but Aziraphale is clutching and rubbing his chest. Shit. Crowley's heart tightens at the sight. He'll be fine, they both will, he knows that. But it's one thing to know and another to watch him power through it like this. Crowley has always known there's more to Aziraphale than appearances suggest but now he's getting a crash course. Serperior places his head on Crowley's shoulder and hisses in his ear. Crowley nudges him with his head.

Anathema's final pokemon is a vaporeon. Huh. He wonders if that's her partner, given how pointedly she has tried to exploit the fairy type's weaknesses. The vaporeon stretches once, twice, digging its small claws into the earth. Gardevoir watches impassively, tense like a coiled spring for the starting call.

The whistle blows. A deep neon pink energy envelops gardevoir before he blasts the laser beam straight at vaporeon, who takes the full brunt but counters by summoning a maelstrom of water and trying to drown its opponent. The wave crashes over the psychic pokemon and when it dissipates, gardevoir is nowhere to be seen, recalled or retreated into his pokeball. The crowd roars for Anathema and her cleverness at getting this far.

Aziraphale chooses his final pokemon and togekiss emerges with a burst of stars and sparkles. The pokemon shows off a bit, stretching her wings with a couple of loop-to-loops when she stops mid loop and zooms right towards Crowley and honchkrow, who is squawking excitedly at her. She levels off mere inches from their heads, crooning at honchkrow whose feathers ruffle as he shuffles and raises his wings.

“Oi,” Crowley corrects as he places his hand over the bird’s wing. Honchkrow serves him a death glare but it’s nothing Crowley doesn’t see on a weekly basis.

Aziraphale laughs nervously as he bids togekiss return. The referee scowls at the display while Anathema looks annoyed that her momentum has been stalled. The ref calls a free attack for vaporeon. Togekiss titters, goading vaporeon.

“Scald,” Anathema calls.

Vaporeon growls and tenses before firing jet of steaming hot water at togekiss. Togekiss trills and beats her wings, not enough to redirect the water but enough to cool the water before impact. Thank goodness. Free attack allowed, she starts showing off again, gracefully diving and barrel-rolling around vaporeon’s attacks.

“Switch, and air slash,” Aziraphale commands.

Togekiss turns on a dime and plunges to the ground, pulling herself into a straight flight a mere foot from the ground. She streaks towards vaporeon as her wings glow and-

Crowley barely catches the maneuver. The only reason he does is that he  _ knows _ that move, inside and out. As the dust rises, the monitors slow down and replay the moment. Togekiss streaks towards vaporeon, gathering wind in her wings, and shoots up at the last second before impact, leaving vaporeon to take the full force of the attack. Honchkrow squawks and caws, hopping up and down on the bench as togekiss flies a lap around the arena. The dust begins to clear but vaporeon is still standing. It scowls and holds itself low to the ground as it awaits togekiss’ next move. She doesn’t keep it waiting. She fires off another air slash, this one from a much safer distance. Vaporeon blinks and turns its head away from the oncoming attack while togekiss follows through, speeding through the air and launching another attack. Vaporeon staggers but falls.

Just like that, it’s all tied up. Just like that, Crowley knows Aziraphale has won. The girl’s salazzle is still paralyzed and between that and the sheer wind force togekiss can conjure, he knows the lizard doesn’t stand a chance. 

Anathema knows it too because she calls, “I yield.”

“Challenger has yielded the fight. Winner is Gym Leader Aziraphale,” the referee declares amidst stunned and scattered applause. 

Crowley gets to his feet and claps loudly, throwing a whistle in every few seconds. Serperior waves two vines in glee as honchkrow beats his wings and joins togekiss above the arena. Aziraphale catches his eye and smiles that small, proud smile of his and suddenly Crowley’s blushing from the tips of his ears down to the end of his neck.

Aziraphale holds Crowley’s gaze for a moment longer, then breaks contact to shake Anathema’s hand and quietly tell her something. Crowley takes that time to clear his throat and pick his way through the crowd to the arena. Umbreon nearly trips him in her enthusiasm to get to Aziraphale. Crowley shoots Gabriel a particularly nasty look on the way down. “Good enough for you?” he spits.

“Ah, Crowley,” Aziraphale says as umbreon leaps into his arms when Crowley finally gets to him.

“You were amazing,” Crowley says, a little breathless, then glances up where togekiss and honchkrow are, “all of you.” 

Aziraphale beams. Almost literally. “Thank you, my dear,” he says, shifting umbreon as he grabs a pokeball and releases sylveon. Umbreon licks his face and leaps out of his arms, her tail smacking him as she does.

Aziraphale chuffs quietly and now Crowley can’t take it anymore. He takes Aziraphale’s hand, entwining their fingers, but looks everywhere save Aziraphale’s face. No one notices in between all the clearing out and the setting up for the next match. He feels Aziraphale relax beside him as he squeezes Crowley’s hand, pressing every millimeter of their hands together.

“Where to for lunch?” Aziraphale asks a moment later, “I have two hours before I must return.”

“I think I know a place,” Crowley drawls, then whistles at the pokemon.”Oi, let’s get a move on, you lot.”

  
They barely make it back in time. Aziraphale does  _ not _ complain.


End file.
